An Impossible Retreat
by Elegant-Ego
Summary: Hermione is frustrated by the people around her who constantly refuse to acknowledge her...which leads her to an interesting companion. Set after the HalfBlood Prince.


Hermione Granger was seventeen years old. It meant very little to her, being a year older, but that was only because she was used to thinking about more important things. Her birthday party was quaint and quiet, just her parents and grandparents in attendance. Ron Weasley made a visit later that day, but it was only to brag about how he'd passed his examination and could now legally Apparate. Even though Hermione herself could Apparate before Ron even came of age, she humored him and watched him disappear from her view with a crack! and reappear with the same sound seconds later. She thought she had felt a spark between them at the funeral at Hogwarts, but Ron soon returned to his indefinitely arrogant state. He was helping his father, Arthur Weasley, at the Ministry of Magic for a choice of career, remaining busy most of the time. She suspected that it was a way of coping with boredom until he was cleared to explore other countries with his best friend.

Her parents insisted that she stay at home for the summer at least, although she was already of age in the wizarding world. She didn't refuse. It became something of a retreat from her formerly hectic life. Harry Potter was spending time in his aunt and uncle's house, assuring her over the phone that he wouldn't be there much longer, then slipping into a conversation about Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes. That's all he talked about anymore. Hermione herself couldn't blame him, with Dumbledore being brutally murdered by Severus Snape a few months ago and the pressure on Harry that had built up even before that, but it was tiresome when he would repeat himself. She felt an inkling of pity for him, knowing that the two people closest to him in life - Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black - were now taken from him. A feeling crept into her that she was now his confidant, which both scared and honoured her.

She was remorseful to admit it, but the less time she spent with her friends, the more relaxed she was. Ron had not come by in days, and Harry was more reclusive than ever. That left her with her books and family, neither of which kept her entirely amused each day. This evening, she carried a new book on protection spells, which had been released and almost required in every home because of the Death Eater scare. Voldemort was loose, Death Eaters were everywhere, Dementors were roaming the countryside, and there had been sightings of Inferi on the loose. Big bloody deal. She and her friends had been dealing with it for the past six years, and nothing was really new to them. But to the Ministry, who stubbornly refused to believe Harry until the end of their fourth year at Hogwarts, all of this was new, and everyone was sent into a panic.

Hermione, of course, knew better than to run around like a chicken with its head cut off. Everything was a danger if one looked hard enough. She had enough spells swimming in her head to fight off twenty Death Eaters at once, but her humanity was her weak spot. Unlike Harry, hesitation plagued her, always looking to a set of rules she needed to abide by to guide her. Lately, her toes were trying to cross this line and try something new, especially with the trauma she'd been through. Last year was an emotional roller coaster, and now Ron was practically ignoring her unless he wanted to talk her ear off. An excellent listener, she was trained to be, but this was not something she preferred to be at all times, like she'd been lately. Whether it be Harry or Ron, no one seemed to want to listen to _her_. It was annoying, and sometimes coaxed irate responses to mostly Ron that came from nowhere, her own thoughts getting the better of her. At least now she could be clear-headed and decide upon a solution that she was sure was somewhere in the mix of things, all while further educating herself.

Making her way up to the grassy knoll that was about half a mile behind her house, the sight of the well-cut, emerald-green grass brought a small, satisfied smile to her face. She wouldn't be bothered here, not by normal circumstances. Sitting down directly in front of the singular redwood tree, she allowed her back to lean against the trunk's bark, feeling her wand poke her spine uncomfortably from her back pocket. Pulling it out tentatively, it rested on the ground inches away from her as she cracked the book open on the tops of her bent legs. She didn't notice the hours passing by, nor did she observe the sky turning a deep blue. The moment she realized the time was when she was pondering the absence of the light she needed to read, the breeze moving harshly through her straight, chestnut hair as she looked up at the moon. Just where was her mind? She shouldn't be out of the safety of her home without proper supervision when it was so dark out. Marking her place in the book, she'd only began to shut it when she heard a cry from the darkness.

"Expelliarmus!" The voice was male and edgy, obviously nervous, but no longer so as Hermione's wand flew from her grasp. She was harmless now, as he saw it. Watching her brown eyes move nervously around her, trying to decipher the shadows, the young man leaned forward. Unable to help himself, he neared her, complete darkness allowing him to remain completely anonymous. "_Boo_," his deep voice whispered into her ear. Hermione gave a large start and instinctively pushed the male back, and he let her...for now. However, he wasn't about to let himself be pushed around like that by a person like _her_. "What's wrong, Granger? Did I scare you?" Draco Malfoy almost hissed out, amusement apparent in his playful tone. "What's a Mudblood like _you_ doing out here in the dark, all by your lonesome? Not even Potter or the pathetic Weasley by your side. Not interested in boys trying to play hero anymore, Hermione?"

Hermione was indeed angry at his sudden appearance, and her deep brown eyes showed it, sparkling with defiance as her features were drawn into a pout. "You don't scare me, Malfoy, unless you count seeing the back of my head when I'm rolling my eyes as scary." There was something in her voice, a light quiver, that made him believe differently. He was standing over her, looming while she bathed in the shadows of his six-foot-two-inch height. Hermione stood at the insult of being called a Mudblood, someone magical who was of Muggle heritage, seeing the glint in Malfoy's silver eyes. "I was reading, and I hadn't realized it was dark. And, no, I'm not about to fall for you, if that's what you're asking." A small smirk coated her features, enjoying watching him pale a bit under her sudden scrutiny. "_Don't_ call me Hermione. You haven't earned that right." Her eyes glanced to her fallen wand, and she thought with all her might _Accio wand! _It came flying to her, but as soon as she felt the cool wood in her right hand, Malfoy's left wrapped around her wrist and drew a tight grip on it.

"Don't even think about it, Granger. I could kill you in a second with the Avada Kedavra if I wanted to," Draco threatened, his mousy blonde hair slicked back and away from his face, allowing Hermione to clearly see his facial expressions. Right now, they were confusing her, though she had grown up among Muggles and learned to read them. She read cool anger, smugness, a bit of annoyance, and loads of amusement. But it bordered more on playfulness. That _did _scare her. "Promise you'll be a good girl, and I might consider leaving you with all your limbs intact." His tone was that smooth one that currently assaulted her ears and made her feel nervous. "You never answered me about Potter and Weasley, _Hermione_." He decided to test her patience with the first name again, his silvery eyes flashing in the moonlight.

"Just like you could have killed Dumbledore, but instead you had _Snape_ do it for you," she snapped, her tone positively venomous. Harry wasn't the only one who was sour about the entire experience, and the knowledge that Hogwarts might be closed to students forever bothered her more than she cared to admit to Draco Malfoy, of all people. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, heard clearly by her own ears. Surely, Malfoy felt her pulse, which was racing through the wrist he currently had a hold of. "What are _you_ doing here? Stalking about in the shadows while waiting for your next order from You-Know-Who?" Hermione believed that fear of a name only increased fear of the thing itself, but she was still getting accustomed to even hearing it, much less saying it. When he brought up Harry and Ron again, Hermione's eyes rolled to the back of her head. "Maybe I'm waiting for one of them to come to their senses, _Draco_." She tried it on him this time, though the hair on the back of her neck was still standing up.

Malfoy let something loose from his mouth that might've been a growl or a grunt, but she didn't have time do decode the noise as he shoved her into the tree behind her. Still holding her wand arm, his face came daringly close to hers, so close that he could smell the raspberry body spray she used. It wasn't a dastardly malodorous scent. He found himself on the border of liking it. "First of all, Mudblood, I would've killed that old, disillusioned coot, but Snape managed to beat me to it. And how ironic that Dumbledore died, finally seeing the truth that he was blind to for so long...His naïve trust for Snape while everyone else saw the big picture was what did him in, and it was a proper ending."

He had no doubt that she could feel his hot breath trickling over the flesh of her neck, seeing goose bumps rise over her skin as he continued to purposely do so, enjoying her reaction. She almost squirmed beneath him, but he was too close and too strong for her to overpower without the use of her wand. With his hand gripping her wrist so hard, she couldn't make any of the proper flicking motions. She was at his mercy, and she hated it. It was an injustice too incredible for her to swallow, much less respond to. Malfoy continued, moving from her neck to her ear again this time. His lips were ever-so-close to her earlobe, making a small 'o' shape as he exhaled a stream of air into her ear. It made her body shiver fully against him, which she despised him for. It reminded them both of just how close they were to one another. "Big talk for a girl who can't even say his name. Are you afraid of it, Hermione? Are you afraid of _him_?" Hesitating a moment, his lips brushed against her ear, stirring him. He had no idea just why he was doing all of this, cornering the Mudblood and threatening her, then...hitting on her? Playing with her head? Both seemed suitable for the moment. "As for waiting around for those two, I don't believe you...I think you're tired of Potter's drama and Weasley's basic insufferable attitude."

Hermione felt helpless for the first time in her life wriggling under his ministrations. His lips brushing her earlobe was something that qualified as nearly enjoyable, and it was driving her mad at the moment. Heat rushed through her entire body, suddenly mindful of the current situation, but she also found a new recklessness being roused inside her. "What if I am?" she questioned softly, though her mind was currently screaming at her to stop. "What are you doing, Draco? This isn't what you're here for; I'm just an interference. Harry's drama is loads compared to yours, but there's no doubt that you've got some yourself! You're just..." She struggled to find the right word as he stared into her eyes coldly yet curiously. "You're foul. You hate people for no reason other than their heritage, when obviously purity doesn't clarify skill. Your ego is a whole new plane of chauvinism, and the only reason you're sticking around here is to mess with my thoughts! I've already seen you weak and sniveling; need I remind you how good you were at being Professor Moody's little ferret for the day? Why would I want someone like y--"

She was getting on Draco's nerves. Badly. This little excavation was supposed to be nothing more than a lookout point, keeping an eye on things for Voldemort. Only, it had turned into so much more. It was the least of his expectations that he'd find that filthy little Mudblood here, but he had, and he was enjoying playing with her. He listened to her talk, which was more than Weasley and Potter had been able to do lately. He could tell that from her reactions. Stress had tensed her body, and she was reeking of wanting to be accepted somewhere and wanting to just relax for once. Malfoy didn't make his empathy public, but it was he who spent the entirety of last year crying in the boy's bathroom and talking to Moaning Myrtle. He knew what it was like to be under pressure, and he also knew that Hermione was under pressure. Even when she was insulting him, he seemed to regard it with smooth ignorance, just watching her lips move as she tried to find the words to sting him the most. Finally, he interrupted her. "Do you know how attractive you are when you're angry?" His tone was purely curious and almost soft, and he shocked her.

Her eyes widened some at the insinuation, her lips parting as she searched for a response. It was not in her vocabulary. _Draco Malfoy _- the boy she'd put up with for six years while he tortured Harry, the same one she socked in the nose in third year, and he who was responsible for Dumbledore's death and Hogwarts's possible closure - was flirting with her. He couldn't help but grin at her reaction. "Oh, shut it for once, Granger...Always have something to say, you do..._Relax_." He spoke in a soothing voice, his right hand reaching up and taking her chin gently between his thumb and index finger.

"Don't," he heard her whisper fearfully directly before his lips touched hers, pressing lightly and just enthused by the sensation. His tongue even stayed in his mouth, but, with her, something sparked that made it that much more exhilarating. Sensing her body loosen up and lean into his instead of back into the tree, he opened his eyes just as she opened hers. She could feel her heartbeat again and was sure that he could feel it as well through the fabric of her baby tee and his robes. His right hand moved from her chin to her hair, running his fingers through it. His left hand softened its grip and eventually released it altogether, having mixed feelings as it brushed against her hip. Hermione still held her wand tightly, unaware of whether it was because she was confused at the moment or because she just wanted to squeeze the life out of something. When she felt his tongue line the outside of her lips, however, she knew that this had to stop. Trying to say his name to stop him, all that came out was a faint murmur. _Levicorpus! _she thought with all her might, and immediately Malfoy was strung up into the air by an invisible force.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered softly, gathering up her things and starting to walk away. Her problem was that part of her _liked _what had just transpired, and she needed to stop that. Only when she was far enough away did she lift the spell, both loathing and admiring Malfoy for what he did. He didn't follow, rather watching her curiously...With their next meeting, he would have to be sure to tell her how much he hated seeing her go, but loved watching her leave...


End file.
